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Gone but not forgotten
It was a cold night in London, snow had been falling for most of the night coating the city in a chilly blanket of frost and ice. The streets had been cleared and had the muck swept to the side, leaving the brown slush that is most commonly seen with grit and much mixed with the melting snow. The city was quiet as most people remained indoors for nights like these, it was most unpleasant. Yet a few people were out, one person crunched through the snow, their tracks that they had left wobbling from side to side as they couldn’t find a decent footing on this harsh ground. He continued to stumble on through the snow, in one hand were two bundles of flowers, and in the other a half empty bottle of some alcohol that had just been refilled for goodness knows how long. His fingers clutching the three items red from the cold, as they poked out of the fingerless gloves, his long black coat dragging along through the snow just as he did, carving his path through it. He arrived at a large iron gate that was closed for the night, snow had built up around it making it much harder work for to be pulled open. Yet with a large tug the iron gate swung open spraying snow in all directions around him, coating his circular glasses, which he simply removed and dropped, not caring about them right now, there was no point. He moved through the gates slowly and continued. He made his way through the rows of headstones that had been dusted with a sprinkling of snow, more was to come. The countless unknown names that had fallen in the wars that came, it sent a cold chill through him as continued to walk on. Arriving at a raised triangular stone platform in the centre he began to walk up it and wiped his nose with the back of his hand, feeling the sting of breathing in his chest, and for a moment could smell the amount of alcohol on him, and the greasy grey hair and beard that had formed over the months. It was the first time he had visited, it was the first time he could have built up the courage to go and see them. Once he arrived at the top he came to sudden halt, his legs becoming lead and refusing to move for him as he stared at the statues there. One of a man holding a white bladed katana, and the other a woman holding a spear. It was a sight he didn’t want to see but… in this intoxicated state it was where he decided to go. The icy wind shot through the gap in the two statues catching him with his open coat, and sending the chill across his body as he stared at them, trying to build himself up to move forward. It was a lot harder than he thought, with a movement he lifted the glass bottle to his mouth and took a long swig of it before heading forward. Crunch, one step. Crunch, crunch. Two steps. Crunch, crunch, thud. He collapsed to his knees In between the two statues, the snow forming around his knees and already beginning to dampen his trousers. He stared down at the ground trying to build himself up to look at the two of them, staring down at him judging him, the two things he failed at the two people he failed to protect and help. He could have done more, he should have done more! He felt himself tremble violently as their gaze pierced through him, as if they were forcing him into the snow. He closed his eyes shaking his head and wretched a little, feeling vomit beginning to move but he held it back, for now at least. With raspy breaths, he moved his body up so he could sit on his knees, and looked down at the snow in front of him. His fingers tightened around the bundles of flowers and slowly he made his way to his feet, trying to not simply fall back down as he pressed the bottle to his lips, and wiped away the trickle that ran out of the corners of his mouth before dropping it back to his side, the bottle dropping out of his hand with a clunk and digging itself into the snow ridden ground. He watched as his breath rose in front of him, disappearing into the sky as he took another step forward and moved his free hand over the two bases of the statues wiping away the snow that covered their memories. “Blake Kago… Jane Rosetta…” he whispered in a raspy voice, almost like it hadn’t been used in months. A lump formed in his throat, and an emptiness arose in his chest, as if it were consuming the last bit of his heart. He looked between the two of them, his dull violet eyes lifeless of anything and he placed the flowers down on both, the messy flowers he found were hastily strewn together just to form something to give. Yet it didn’t seem like enough, it would never seem like enough, his eyes began to sting as he felt tears beginning to form in them and roll down his cheeks, messing with the grey flecks of hair on his face and onto his chin before patting onto the ground. “I… let you down…” He said in that hoarse whisper again, his hands clenching into fists. The thoughts of everything he could have done differently rose into his mind, he should have never offered them the deal, he should have let them continue as themselves. Roping them into this. He shouldn’t have done this at all… of the shit that followed could have been averted. He was a broken man, and this thing that had replaced Shirodan Vex since the end of the war that had happened was all that was left of him, his depression and bitterness that had pushed away those little that he cared for, out of a selfish need to spare any more harm. With a deep breath, he bent down and picked up the glass bottle, swirling what remained of the liquid in it around, as it sloshed against the bottle. He slumped down and sat under Jane’s statues, feeling her cold embrace, and the judging stare of Blake. With another swig, he tossed the empty bottle away, hearing it crash somewhere in the distance and began close his eyes. “Hey.” Said a woman’s voice. “Wake up you Shiro.” Came a male’s there was no mistaking that sponginess. He opened his eyes and saw them standing in front of him, they had a faint glow about them, Jane standing there in a long black dress with her white hair stretching down her back, and her gleaming blue eyes staring down at him, and Blake in a white uniform of sorts with his arms folded. Both possessed a sad look in their eyes however, disappointed. “What are you doing out in the cold?” Jane said and sat down at Shiro’s left. She smiled up at him, just slightly but enough. “You’ll get frostbite.” Blake cut in and sat down at his right not having a smile on his face, but there was an air of concern. “You can’t stay like this forever Shiro. You know this, don’t you?” He let out a laugh and shook his head, “Yeah?” he asked Blake chuckling again, a harsh edge to his voice, but the effort to move just wasn’t there. “Just watch me... I can stay here and they’ll all continue how they are…they don’t need me! My time is done, the wars are over… they don’t need a hollow like me.” He spat at them and watched as they continued to sit there. Jane sighed and struck Shiro across the face with such force he could feel the sting long after she had done it. “Idiot.” Was all she said and stood up standing in front of him. “Look at you, you’ve let this happen to yourself! What are you scared of, I mean come on last time you smelt of booze and cigarettes was… well never actually and that just proves how bad it is!” She glared at him as Shiro chuckled and reached into his jacket to tear out his cigarettes and lighter and threw them away for them to be lost into the graveyard. “So what if we died Shiro, it’s fucking life and it’s a piece of shit at times.” “She has a point.” Blake cut in and stood up looking down at him, “If it wasn’t us it would have been someone else, someone better or worse. We did our jobs Shiro, something was going to get us at some point.” He ran a hand through his red hair and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Having a break down isn’t going to help any of this and you know it.” Shiro narrowed his eyes at the pair of them, “Who said I’m having a breakdown.” “Oh sorry.” Blake said in that monotone voice, “I meant given up. I’ve never known you to give up.” “There’s nothing left to do Blake, no more bad guys to beat, no more demons to slay. There’s nothing left to do.” He said and waved his hand trying to dismiss these apparitions. “Yes, there is.” They both said at the same time and stared down at Shiro before a small smile appeared on both their faces. “Oh well do share I’m eager to hear it.” He said and stood onto his feet, leaning back against the statue, for fear of the world spinning and throwing him off. Jane walked up to him and looked him square in the eyes before poking his cheek and grabbed him at the collar of his jacket and pulled him down so he was eye level with her. “Fucking live Shiro… it’s what you worked for.” He looked at her, lost in those eyes and then looked at Blake who gave a shrug of just accept it. Those words struck him, and hit right home and he broke away from her grip and walked over to the edge of the platform, feeling the sting of guilt in him. “How?” Was what he asked quietly. “Moving on is always a good start.” Blake said and placed a hand on his shoulder and patted it. “It’ll be hard, but holding onto the past isn’t going to help you in this situation. But you need to move on.” “Forgive yourself for what’s done, I don’t hold your responsible for what happened.” Jane said, “It was a bad situation that just got worse… and now it’s over. We are both somewhere else, and you are here… so make it work. Hold us in your memory but don’t let it swallow you.” “We’ll be waiting for you.” Blake said in a spooky voice, “Oh that sounded more threatening than I meant it to. I mean, when you’re ready, it’ll be done. The work isn’t over, and now you have my paper work, and to continue to run this place.” He gestured to the city as snow continued to fall upon it. “You’ll be fine… there are others there to help you.” Jane finished. “Good luck.” They both said, leaving him to stand there alone in the snow. He could feel his warm tears slowly beginning to cool down on his face, and he let out a wail of anger and pain, feeling it all just rush out of him and he stood there panting. “Shiro!?” “Shiro!?” Shiro heard the voices calling after him and turned on his heels and saw a group of three walking through the gates of the graveyard and heading up to him, they were blurry but there was no denying that red hair of Kaito, the white hair of Angel and the general Leon-esk walk of Leon. “Here.” He called over to them and glanced around, seeing Jane and Kaito had gone. “Here.” He repeated and headed towards them, meeting them in the middle. “Jesus man you look awful.” Kaito stated looking him up and down, but grinned a little as Leon recoiled a little at his smell. “I think a shower is needed for him though.” He stated and narrowed his eyes a little as if challenging him to say otherwise. “We looked everywhere, everywhere!” Angel said flailing her hands about. “Well actually we just checked out the pub, subway and the guild this was bound to be one of the places. Have you stopped being depressed now?” “Yeah.” He said and gave a half smile, something he would have to get use to again. “Great exclaimed Kaito and pulled him into a bear hug, almost crushing his ribs with a wide grin. “This is for taking freaking forever!” He added before slapping his back, which caused him to wince a bit at the pain. “Now come on out of this cold, we saved you a plate.” “Mhm that we did, and the cook was annoyed at his food being reheated. You’ve set a record for being late at the Santillo Hotel.” Leon said shaking his head at Shiro, before he held out his hand. Showing the silver wire frame glasses. “Now come on, get showered so I won’t shut my doors to you.” Shiro smiled and took the glasses and put the cool metal glasses on, feeling the low bite of it on his face and followed them. A gong from the old Mage tower echoed over the city, signalling the strike of the end of a day, and the beginning of another year.